


There Was Only One Bed

by bookmarksorganization



Category: Slow Show - mia ugly
Genre: Anal Sex, Bathing/Washing, Blow Jobs, Explicit Consent, First Time, Hand Jobs, Laughter During Sex, Lube, M/M, Perfect, Praise Kink, Rimming, Sharing a Bed, Talking During Sex, blowjob tears, he's perfect, that's perfect, the nuns bit is a blatant redo of Peter Capaldi as Peter Healy on Getting On
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-26
Updated: 2020-02-26
Packaged: 2021-02-28 00:33:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22904776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bookmarksorganization/pseuds/bookmarksorganization
Summary: So, one bed. It wasn’t anything new. They’d all piled into one countless times. And William and Erasmus had shared beds or cots or designated parts of floors between just the two of them equally as often. But, not since they’d started kissing each other and not with privacy.William had to be thinking the same thing, because he was looking at Erasmus like he was trapped. Waiting. Anticipatory.
Relationships: Erasmus/William (Warlock - Slow Show)
Comments: 9
Kudos: 69
Collections: Slow Show Metaverse, Warlock fic





	There Was Only One Bed

“Are you sure this is a good idea? This is the biggest abbey in the province,” Erasmus said.

William looked surprised by him voicing that bit of information, and Erasmus felt proud. _Didn’t expect that, did you?_

“Yes,” William said, fighting a smile. “But, I do believe them. They have as much reason to fear the Inquisition as any of us.”

“Wouldn’t that be further motivation to trick us, then?”

“I really don’t think so. I know these women. They’ve always pushed up against doctrine when it comes to taking care of people. That’s how we met, actually. There were sanctions, and I accompanied our bishop on some site visits.”

Erasmus was fascinated when Willam talked about his life prior to their paths crossing… they’d both lived so many years, in that _before_. He didn’t prod, but he was always interested—when something prompted William to offer a glimpse into his past.

“How long ago was that?” Julia asked.

“A decade ago. Look, we don’t have to if you two think it’s a bad idea. But it’s an option, particularly if we need to be around Perthlochcy.”

They needed to, and they didn’t have a better alternative, so they were taking the risk. He and Julia were on the same page about the whole thing: on edge. That worked, didn’t it? Edge of the page. Keep that around for later.

It was the closest they’d been to a city in years. Cities offered cover, but the crush of people was a risk. There was the potential that magic would spread out, and then they would have to bet on being able to disappear into a crowd. The hidden pathways, the veins that led to the heart of a city, held as much danger as they did possible escape. 

The Order of Saint Hildegarde occupied a hill that was the better part of a day’s travel from Perthlochcy. You could see the sprawl of the city, from atop it. It was far enough away for them to find respite for an evening, and positioned so that they stood a decent chance of spotting any other approaching travelers.

The sister who opened the door recognized William immediately—that was some luck—and she gasped and ushered them all inside before they could even attempt to explain.

“Father William!” she cried, flinging herself into William’s arms. She said something that could have been “You’re alive!” into his chest.

William patted her shoulders, making alarmed eye contact over the woman’s habit with Julia, whose jaw had dropped. “Um, yes, alive, Sister Mary. Not a priest anymore, though—just ‘William’ is fine. Is everything alright?” 

She hadn’t moved from where she’d clung to him. But at that, she pulled away and smoothed down her robes, sniffing damply. She’d been crying. “I’m just so happy you’re alive. The news had reached us, even here.”

“Ah—well, still alive!” William said, brightly and with palpable discomfort—like he was rapidly reconsidering his own idea. Then, “Oh! And these are my traveling companions. This is Erasmus, and Julia, and Joshua.”

They all waved. 

“Hi!” said Joshua, loudly, from around Julia.

“Hello, sweetheart!” Sister Mary said. She turned to the rest of them. “You all must be exhausted. Follow me. I’ll bring you to the Abbess.”

They followed her deeper into the abbey, and she chattered excitedly at William as they walked through corridors and past indoor gardens.

“The apricots did amazingly well this year. I’d love to show you tomorrow if there’s time. I could make tea! Would you like tea?”

“That would be lovely, Sister Mary.”

They all startled when another nun rounded the corner and screamed. “Oh, my heavens! Willam!”

“Hello, Sister Grace.”

She kissed William on both cheeks. “Oh, thank heavens you’re alright. We’d heard the news.”

“Yes, we’ve all been able to keep safe, thankfully.”

“Oh!” She bent down in front of Joshua. “You’re the boy!”

“I am,” said Joshua, knowingly.

Sister Grace gazed up at William and Sister Mary. “Miraculous,” she breathed. “Are you taking them to the Reverend Mother?”

“We’re just on our way, sister. Thank you.” Oh, there was a bit of steel to that, from Sister Mary. Because—what? 

“William, do you want to…” Sister Mary trailed off and pointed ahead. 

“Mmm? Mmhmm. Thank you, Sister Grace,” he said to the other nun, and they set off again. 

Erasmus glanced back over his shoulder. Sister Grace lingered, her hand over her heart. Erasmus knew that look.

“Just down here.”

They stopped outside of a large set of double doors. Sister Mary knocked. “Reverend Mother, it’s William, from Neath. He’s here with the boy and his friends.”

After moments, the door flung open. A stunning woman, around their age, threw herself towards William. William caught her. Julia squeaked, and broke into an unconvincing coughing fit.

“You’re alive!”

“Yes, Reverend Mother.”

“Oh stop.” She stepped back. “It’s just Sister Theresa to you.”

“You’re seeing your friends, William!” Joshua yelled out. 

The Reverend Mother beamed down at him. “We’re all old friends of William,” she said. “You all must be exhausted. Why don’t you come to my office for now and we’ll sort everything out. Sister Mary, could you please see what we can manage in the way of food and drink for them all?”

“Of course, Reverend Mother.” Sister Mary hurried off back from where she’d come, picking up her skirts.

Joshua wandered up to Erasmus and took his hand.

They all followed Sister Theresa down a hallway. William and Julia trailed behind. Julia was muttering something Erasmus couldn’t catch, but he did hear William hiss back, “ _Stop._ ” and Julia snort with poorly suppressed laughter.

What was even _happening?_

They passed under an archway and found themselves in a handsome room with a large desk in its corner. There were a couple of chairs and an unlit fireplace.

“William and—” Sister Theresa stared at Erasmus, blankly.

“Erasmus,” William said.

“Erasmus, apologies. I should have thought to introduce myself. Terribly rude of me. Please make yourselves comfortable for a moment while I take these two to a room for the evening.”

“Julia and Joshua, and thank you,” Julia said.

“Of course. Please follow me.” She led them away.

Erasmus watched them til they were out of sight, and then turned back to William.

“You’re a hit with the nuns.”

“What?” William said.

“They were all fawning over you. Asking you for tea and talking about their apricots.”

“They weren’t fawning over me. They’re nuns. They’re hospitable. And they make lovely jam.”

“That’s not hospitable. That’s flirting. I’m an expert,” he said, then snickered. “Too bad they’re barking up the wrong tree.”

“Mmm, and how would you know?” William said, catching up too quickly. 

_Oh, shit._

“Right, I didn’t mean to assume, sorry. Do… you?”

William let the tension linger for a moment, and then, “No,” he admitted with a small smile. “Do you?”

Erasmus blew air past his lips, thought about it. “Not sure how to answer. Sex can be for a lot of things. Sometimes someone’s particularly alluring. But, sometimes it’s a means to an end. Sometimes you’re just lonely.” 

He noticed William’s brows draw up for a moment, at that. Let him think that they kept crashing together because Erasmus was lonely. It was less pathetic than the reality of four years: desperately in love.

“But,” Erasmus continued. “I’ve never felt desire, or, that spark, or whatever, for women.”

They seemed to stutter out of things to talk about, and Erasmus wondered idly if the nuns had intentionally separated them from Julia and Joshua. He frowned down at his amulet. It was enchanted; Julia carried its twin. The stone set within could change colors: to warn, or call for help. Where had this been when he was stuck on that bespoke quest for that terrible year? Though, maybe the amulet not-changing would have just made him worry that they’d gotten hurt before they could call. He was doing that now. Also, he wouldn’t have been able to do anything, on the other side of a country. He’d have just known he’d failed.

“It’s fine,” William said, because he knew Erasmus too well.

Erasmus hoped so.

Eventually, Sister Theresa came back. “Julia and the boy are set up nicely. We’ll send some food to their room and get a bath drawn. We’ll do the same for the two of you, of course. We don’t have much space so I’m afraid you will have to share. Though, I imagine with the stress of the past few years this isn’t anything new.”

William stood. “Thank you ever so much for your hospitality, Sister.”

She looked up at him—eyes sparkling like he’d hung the moon above her desk. By St. Boogar and all the saints at the backside door of purgatory. “I’ll take you to your room,” she said.

It was past another walled garden. Or was it the same one? Erasmus didn’t like that he’d lost track. Sister Theresa opened the door, and they all went inside.

There was only one bed.

“I’ll leave you to it for the evening. Welcome back, William. We’re so happy you’re here.” She gave him another hug, nodded with a warm smile to Erasmus, and closed the door behind her.

So, one bed. It wasn’t anything new. They’d all piled into one countless times. And William and Erasmus had shared beds or cots or designated parts of floors between just the two of them equally as often. But, not since they’d started kissing each other and not with privacy. 

William had to be thinking the same thing, because he was looking at Erasmus like he was trapped. Waiting. Anticipatory.

The tension drew out like the string of a bow being pulled back. An arrow between his fingers, sliding across—

There was a knock at the door. “Your food, gentleman.”

Dry fired.

William went to open it, and Sister Mary came in carrying a tray. Whatever was on it smelled incredible. Sister Mary set it down on a table and Erasmus and William ambled up to it, like they were bespelled.

Hot stew, something with dark broth and potatoes and meat and carrots. Crusty bread. A single glass of wine for each of them, and a jug of water.

“Sister Mary,” Erasmus breathed. “You’re incredible.”

She blushed. “Please, eat. I’ll draw a bath for you in the meantime.”

They sat down and set upon the food, too hungry to bother with small talk. As they ate, Sister Mary came back and forth with water for the tub in the room. When she’d finished, she told them she’d return to take away the water and plates in the morning. Then, with one more lingering look at William, she wished them a good night and departed.

And then they were alone.

“So this is new,” Erasmus said, trusting William would know what he meant.

William nodded. “I didn’t think much of it ‘til we walked into the room.”

“Same. And then I realized that we haven’t really been alone since things… changed?”

That first kiss, after Erasmus had been healed by William, had felt natural—like they were finally acting on the thing that had been between them for some time. It wasn’t a love confession or anything like that, though Erasmus had felt like his heart was going to ignite and glow through his chest.

And then things seemed to return to how they were before he’d left, though William wasn’t as tormented, was more content. It was good to see. Until the next time they were up late drinking, and William pulled him down and pressed their lips together.

Or the time after that, when they’d been having some stupid half-serious argument over something—Erasmus couldn’t even remember what—in a forest and William had taken his face between his hands and kissed him, and when he’d drawn back, looked up at Erasmus with such happiness. And Erasmus had backed him into a tree and lost himself there, against William’s mouth.

And so it had continued. Not often. Only when they were certain of privacy.

It was all strangely chaste. Erasmus had kissed William until his lips went numb, but there was still a very clear line they weren’t crossing. It was a line they were both aware of.

They’d edged up to it, behind an abandoned farmhouse on a night where the moon was almost gone. William had pushed Erasmus gently to the ground and straddled him, and suddenly they were pressed, hard, together, kissing. William had gasped into their open mouths and moved against him before he seemed to realize what was happening very suddenly. He'd frozen. 

Erasmus had already been on his back, so he couldn’t do anything but pull his hands away as William very quickly climbed off him. William had apologized with a shaky laugh and Erasmus had gotten to his feet, telling him not to worry. They’d gone back inside and Erasmus had been haunted by the sound of that gasp for the rest of his history.

“How do you feel about that?” asked William, drawing Erasmus back to the present. Erasmus must have looked like he was off-course because William prompted “Things changing?”

“It depends on how you feel,” Erasmus said, choosing to be honest. “I’m not trying to seduce you. Unless you want to be seduced. I’m thrilled by the idea of a hot bath and an actual bed.”

“Seduced.”

Erasmus gestured at himself. “Obviously,” he said, half-sarcastic.

“Mmm. Worth a try, I guess.”

“Wait.” Erasmus sat up. “Seriously?”

William swallowed and nodded. “If you want, I’d like to. I know things are normally more…” He waved a hand in the air, between them.

“Fraught?”

“It’s awkward, just talking about this. I don’t know where to start.”

“Could I hold you?”

That appeared to catch William off guard. “What?”

“Only if you want, but it might make things easier, starting small.”

William stuttered, “On—on the bed, you mean? We haven’t bathed.”

“If you want to do what I… infer you’re implying… is it really going to matter?”

“I suppose not, though I’d still like a bath, and the water might get cold.”

“It’s hot enough out that I don’t care, but whatever you want to do.”

“I suppose you’re right.”

They stood—awkward—and walked over to the bed. Erasmus immediately climbed into it. He wasn’t about to stare longingly across it at William like it was some unsurpassable bloody gulf or whatever. 

Beautifully, William followed. They lay there, facing each other. Erasmus rolled onto his back, hoping William would take that hint, as well.

He did. He moved up and rested his head on Erasmus’s shoulder. He placed his hand on his chest. Erasmus had never been more grateful for choosing to wear exceedingly tight pants, because there were far too many laces happening for his cock—hard so fast that he’d practically _felt_ the blood abandon his brain—to be too noticeable unless close attention was paid.

William was warm, and soft, and even just this, was so much. He moved his hand over Erasmus’s ribs, and back across his stomach, languid. “This is nice.”

His fingers moved downward, to the laces. “Alright?”

Erasmus nodded, “Yes, if unexpected. Whatever you want.” Anything.

William pulled at them idly, not shifting from where he was curled up against Erasmus. And then he slipped his hand underneath—touched him. Erasmus sighed and closed his eyes. He tried to stay still as William wrapped his fingers around his cock. William pulled him free of the pants and squeezed, staring down. Erasmus watched him and hated that he couldn’t think of anything clever to say.

William ran his hand up the length of him and then back down, twisting his wrist slightly. Oh, _fuck_.

“Um, is it alright if I—” and then William spat into his palm and grasped Erasmus’s cock again and fuck that was so good.

William sat up, leaned over, and kissed him. Erasmus whimpered into his mouth as he fucked into William’s hand. Hadn’t they just been sitting at a table over their single glasses of wine?

The circle of his fingers, dragging downwards, sliding back up over the head of his cock was almost too intense. Erasmus just... tried to exist. Don’t combust, or faint, or do something too undignified. This wasn’t a new experience.

After a few minutes, or a century, who knows, Erasmus realized the general feelings of consuming pleasure were narrowing down to something specific. He reached to still William’s hand. William drew it away, and looked up at him.

“I was about to, and I didn’t know if you…” Erasmus trailed off.

“No, I—uh, want to do more.”

“Could I?”

“Yes, please.”

Erasmus slithered out of his pants and tossed them to the floor. He still wore the flowing tunic, but he turned to William, who wore pants and a jacket and a soft tunic and Erasmus could see that he was hard. He could _see_ that he was hard. God.

The pants weren’t Erasmus’s overly complex choice. They just had a panel in the front that buttoned. Which he’d noticed countless times.

“Can I?” he asked again. And William, bless, just nodded. 

Erasmus pressed his hand against him, through the fabric, and felt him. William made an mph sound that dragged out to a gasp as he moved his hips against the touch. Erasmus was doomed. On the edge of drawing back a curtain to destiny.

He slid a finger along the flap of the pants, to the button, and popped it open. His hands weren’t shaking so much that he couldn’t still do that trick. And he moved the fabric aside and William was hard, and so fucking perfect. He was the most beautiful thing Erasmus had ever seen, and the truth of that would live in his chest, beneath his ribcage through the rest of the time he’d wander this planet.

He touched him, no fabric between them, and William gasped again. He watched Erasmus with wonder, and desperation, and amusement—like he found something ridiculous about it all. He was a perfect match when it came to finding oddly specific moments for self-deprecating humor. Erasmus didn’t go in for fate, or soul bonds, or whatever they called that sort of thing. He could ignore the _we’re perfect for each other_ he’d feel when they’d laugh at the same thing, or when William read him so well he responded to thoughts Erasmus hadn’t voiced. He was just perfect.

Erasmus got to his knees, got so close. He lifted his eyes up to William, who nodded immediately. Erasmus licked a line across his cock, tasted heat and salt and _him_ , and William grabbed a pillow to moan into.

Erasmus ran the flat of his tongue over William’s length. He kissed him there, wet and open with his lips sliding over that smooth, hard stretch. Erasmus turned his head. His jaw rubbed across William’s thigh and he wrapped his lips around the head of William’s cock. Erasmus sucked, and William thrust upwards slightly, deeper, hitting the back of his throat. It made Erasmus shiver.

Erasmus wrapped his hand around William’s cock and timed the way his mouth moved, pulling the saliva down with each stroke.

William was whispering “Please, please, please,” and Erasmus drew back. William inhaled sharply, like he was wounded. 

“Are you saying please because you want something?”

William laughed, then. “No—I… I don’t know why I was—” his expression darkened. “I want everything.”

 _Anything._ “When you say everything, what do you mean?”

William visibly gave that thought. “I want this, and, um—” He met Erasmus’s eyes. His pupils were blown wide. “I want to be inside of you.”

Erasmus had to close his eyes, had to brace himself against how that sentence ran through him. When he recovered, which he did via sheer willpower, he said, “We can do that, it’ll take some time, though. How much sleep do you want?”

“I don’t care.”

Great. Who needed sleep? Erasmus certainly didn’t care about it. He cared deeply about William tangling his fingers through his hair and finding his pleasure in Erasmus’s throat.

“Can I?”

“Yes.”

Erasmus took all of him into his mouth. He grabbed William’s ass—tugged him even closer, and heard him cry out.

“Wait, wait. Wait. I’m close, I don’t want to—”

Erasmus pulled off of him, and William made a ruined noise.

With his breath coming ragged, Erasmus said, “I think we can get you back there, and it might make you last longer, if you want to fuck me.”

Who'd hung the moon _now?_ “Please,” William whispered. 

William did tangle his fingers in Erasmus's hair. But, he hesitated to move, to fuck Erasmus's mouth the way Erasmus had dreamt countless times—until he caught on to how Erasmus would tug him closer in encouragement with each involuntary thrust. And he gave into it. William fucked him and raised the hairs on Erasmus's arms, until tears flowed involuntarily down his cheeks. Everything he wanted.

William's grip in his hair tightened and Erasmus moaned. And then William was gasping, saying "Erasmus, oh—oh…" and Erasmus's mouth filled with him, the taste sharp and almost not-there and Erasmus had to carefully still himself where he'd been grinding into the bed so that he didn't lose himself across the sheets.

Erasmus rested his head on William’s thigh.

William was glowing, and he drew Erasmus upwards and kissed him, which Erasmus wasn’t expecting. William wrapped his arms around his neck and sighed happily into his mouth. _Perfect angel_ , thought Erasmus, drunk with pleasure.

“So, we should probably take a bath,” William said.

They disrobed, watching each other. William had been strong, even when they’d first met. He hadn’t been any sort of city official, sitting around in a cathedral all day. There had been a solidness to him.

Years on the run had added more strength, and made him slightly less soft, though he was still soft. Wonderfully soft. Erasmus could see muscles move as William lifted his shirt above his head and stood there—nude before him. 

A lot of people had looked at Erasmus out of his clothes the way William was looking at him now, and it was always flattering, but those hadn’t been people who knew him this well—who asked him what he thought about things, who made him tea, who listened to his stories. 

The water was still warm. William had found soap, and they lapsed into silence for a while—just getting the days in forests and towns off—with particularly close attention to certain areas. But, soon their attention returned to each other, and they coiled together in the water.

"God, you're so—you’re perfect,” William said, from where he’d slid into Erasmus’s lap.

They fell deeper into the bath, tangled together, lips parted—

—and the splash of water onto the floor snapped them both out of it.

They climbed out of the tub. Erasmus offered William his hand to help him. They toweled themselves off. Then, William took Erasmus by his hand again, and led him to the bed.

Erasmus touched both sides of William’s face and kissed him so softly. He loved him so much. But, he didn’t need to go get overly sentimental during their first time in bed—er, _in bed_ together. And there was so much he wanted. William had said he wanted everything. Erasmus wanted to give it to him, and he felt the same way—wanted everything.

“There’s… something I’d like to do, if you’d be interested,” he said.

William was kissing his neck. He pressed his teeth down in a way he’d learned would tear a moan from Erasmus, and it did. “Anything.”

“I—god you’re not helping, fuck— _fuck_. William.”

William lifted his head up, grinning. “Yes?”

Erasmus shook his head, trying to get the fog to clear a little. “I don’t know a delicate way to say this, so hopefully this isn’t too vulgar—shut up, I’m aware of our... present circumstances—too vulgar. I’d love to use...my mouth on you. Not—not how I meant earlier.” _Please understand._

William’s brows raised, and he was silent for a moment. “Oh,” he said. “That hadn’t occurred to me.”

Erasmus waited. And William smiled.“Yes.”

Erasmus smiled. Wider.

He moved down lower on the bed, and put his mouth on those amazing, beautiful hips. He felt that soft, perfect skin. He turned William over—he followed the cue of Erasmus gently pushing him with such ease—so attentive.

Erasmus reached up, to grab a pillow, and positioned it beneath William’s hips.

Erasmus kissed down his spine. 

William’s ass was perfect, under his hands. He pressed his fingers into William’s flesh, spread him open to best access where he was tight and gorgeous and better than anything Erasmus could have imagined.

Laid out like that: with pale skin and paler hair that curled softly around his face. Traces of water reflected the candlelight and shone gold on his skin. Under the shine of it, along the arch of his spine, muscles tensed. William closed his eyes, and made a pained expression– he looked like he was suffering, divinely, from the drag of his hips against the pillow beneath him.

Fuck, it’s like he was some winged love god from antiquity, or, maybe one of the angels in the chapel windows had fallen and landed in his bed. 

Erasmus bowed his head. He pressed the flat of his tongue against that core of him, and licked slowly upwards. William made a noise that was broken, and transcendent.

He traced the edge of him, circles and upward strokes until William was tilting his hips back against his mouth and whispering his name, pleading. Erasmus drew back, taking full breaths for the first time in minutes. 

He got out of bed, and walked over to his pack—found what he was searching for quickly. He brought the bottle back with him and set it on the nightstand, but not before pouring a significant amount into his hand. He one-handedly spread it over his fingers.

Erasmus laid down beside him, careful not to touch the sheets with his now slick hand (however long that was going to last) and they stared at each other. Erasmus couldn’t parse William’s expression. He was clearly happy, but there was some sort of calm to him that Erasmus didn’t understand.

Erasmus reached behind himself, traced his finger around in circles at his own entrance as they kissed, then pushed his finger inside. He wrapped his other hand to the back of William’s neck and held him close as he started to fuck himself, opening himself up.

“Do you want to?” Erasmus whispered.

“Yes.”

Erasmus stopped what he was doing. He coated Willam’s fingers with oil, and then lay back down in the same position as before, with his leg over William’s hips and his hand at the nape of William’s neck. He took William’s hand with his other and moved like he was draping William’s arm around his waist—where his hand would have fallen to the small of Erasmus’s back. But, Erasmus pulled William’s hand lower. With their fingers almost interlaced together, Erasmus guided William into him.

Their faces were inches apart, and William looked fascinated. Erasmus took his other hand back from William’s neck and tapped his nose. “Really?”

William closed his eyes and shook his head. “Sorry, it’s impossibly attractive, I promise.” He moved his fingers in a careful press. As he withdrew them, he found that place inside that sent warmth radiating in waves. Erasmus sighed from it. 

“Oh fuck, William.” 

William smiled. He repeated the gesture. Erasmus moaned and pulled him into a kiss. Their mouths opened and the feel of William’s tongue, as William pushed into him, was something that heated Erasmus—that caused his body to pulse and effervesce. He gave himself over, to the stretch and slide of William’s touch—to this new breach—when William already occupied his mind and soul. Finally managed all three. This was happening. God, this was happening.

He angled his hips back against William’s hand, and William responded perfectly. He shifted nearer to Erasmus on the bed, held him close as he added another finger and Erasmus _sobbed_ shocked, delighted, and suddenly overcome—he breathed, “Yes, yes, absolutely. Oh my god,” He could feel their cocks pressed together, and Erasmus thrust up against that. William moaned, and kissed him.

Somehow, Erasmus managed to remember they still intended to do more. “William,” he gasped. “Do you want to fuck me? Because I’m not going to last if we keep doing this.”

“Yes,” William whispered, against his jaw. “How do you want to?”

Erasmus reached to move William’s hand back and out of him. He pushed William onto his back, and curled up against him—he rested his head on William’s shoulder, in reverse of how they’d lain earlier. He tried to focus. “Just remembering how to think,” he said, laughing unsteadily. “God. I knew it would be good with you, but this...” 

William pressed a kiss to the top of his head. “I don’t have anything to compare it to, but that’s good to hear.”

Oh. That hadn’t occurred to Erasmus. He bit down the wave of _I’m going to fuck it up._ that rose up. They weren’t going to fuck it up. And if they did, well, they’d figure it out.

But then, he wanted to reach up, to touch William’s face and to whisper _I love you._ and Erasmus bit that back, too. They weren’t there, yet. And this was wonderful—was so much.

He placed his hand on William’s shoulders, pushed him back down onto the bed and straddled him. He took hold of William’s cock, already so hard, and held him there, where Erasmus was empty, and open. Erasmus sank down, and William reached for his hips, not moving otherwise, but he swore.

“ _Fuck._ "

The feeling of William finally inside of him had almost pushed a sob out of Erasmus, but that stopped it. He coughed out a laugh—looked down at William in astonishment.

“Did you—”

William changed the hold of his hands a bit, where he was touching Erasmus. “Yes,” he breathed.

Erasmus let himself sink the rest of the way down, and they both moaned. Erasmus set a careful motion with his hips as his body adjusted, faithfully, and eagerly.

William was watching him with open desire, and Erasmus felt beautiful. William wanted him, and the way pleasure showed on his face was exquisite.

“You can move,” he whispered, and William took him at his word. He pushed up into him. He felt huge, and Erasmus threw his head back. He had been hard for so long at this point, that it was going to take a while. He hoped.

They moved together, and it was perfect. It was everything. William found that place in Erasmus with each stroke. Erasmus didn’t even have to try for it. Tension was running through him. Pleasure. And he was so happy. Happier than he’d ever been.

Erasmus leaned over William and buried his face in his neck, so that they didn’t have to look into each other’s faces. William stroked his hair, held him close and whispered into his ear.

“You’re impossible. I can’t believe you can be this perfect.”

And Erasmus laughed, because he was feeling too many things to keep any of it straight by this point, and William did something with his hips that made Erasmus’s laughter break off in a wail, and then, “Fuck.”

He heard William sigh, at that, and Erasmus wrapped his arms around his neck, brought his own lips up to William’s ear.

“Do you have any idea what you do to me, you impossible man? Do you have any idea how many nights I’ve dreamed about feeling you inside of me like this?”

_“Oh.”_

“Do you have any idea how often I’ve touched myself and thought of you?”

And Erasmus was grinding against William, where his cock was pressed up between their stomachs.

“You feel fucking incredible. I can’t believe how good you feel. I knew you would, if we—William oh, you’re fucking amazing.”

William held onto his shoulders and pushed deeper into him, and Erasmus moaned, and he heard William’s echoed gasp.

“You’re so fucking amazing. You’re the most amazing thing I ever—” _Shit._ “You’re great.” _Fuck, whatever._ And then Erasmus angled his hips in a very specific way and brought himself down hard onto William’s cock.

“ _Fuck._ Erasmus, are you—could you be close?”

“Yes, yes.”

William turned and pulled him into a crushing kiss and Erasmus fell over the edge. His world went white and the light behind his eyes was gold and he was kissing an angel and he felt William follow, felt the flood of him, hot and holy and _he deserved it._

 _This is mine,_ he thought, even as the front of his brain lit back up and he looked down at the man he loved in wonder.

William seemed just as astonished, and he reached up to brush a lock of Erasmus’s hair away from his face. It seemed like he was about to say something, but then he just smiled. 

Erasmus moved off of William, almost immediately missing the stretch of him, feeling this new emptiness, but William pulled Erasmus down into his arms, and held him.

They fell asleep that way, in a delicate silence, filled with joy.

When they woke the next morning, the light was soft, and they stayed there in bed, for a bit—while they could.

There would be a lot of good mornings.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to [D20Owlbear](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BeforeCrimson/pseuds/D20Owlbear) for letting me borrow Perthlochcy (holy hell y'all, experience their [WANTED](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22854634/chapters/54625105) posters and also all their amazing fic) and to wph to listening to me yell about this fic as I wrote it! 
> 
> I'm [@various-things](https://various-things.tumblr.com/) on tumblr.
> 
> Comments make my day. <3


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